


A Bit of Peace

by enigmaticblue



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-05
Updated: 2011-01-05
Packaged: 2017-10-14 10:49:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/148447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticblue/pseuds/enigmaticblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Spike wants is a moment of peace.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Bit of Peace

The figure stood next to the large windows, one hand pressed longingly to the enchanted glass as the sunlight streamed in harmlessly. His shoulders slumped slightly as he turned away. There was the illusion of humanity, but it wasn’t real; the only one who had ever made him feel like a man was half a world away.

 

They would all be coming back soon, and then he would leave. He was fairly certain Angel wanted him gone, and the rest of them had little desire to be around him. Like Thomas the Rhymer, he spoke in truths no one else would say, and that rarely bought either loyalty or liking. But Fred would be sorry to see him go at least. He smiled a little at that; he liked the thin girl with her large heart. She reminded him so very much of another. He shook his head; that way lay madness.

 

Sure enough, they all began to file into the room, their chatter dying down as they saw him. He had never been a part of their group, of course, so there was no reason for them to feel comfortable in his presence. But still, it hurt, not to belong. It always hurt.

 

“What are you doing here, Spike?” Angel asked, his voice cold, dislike shaping his words into a sword, innocuous as they might be.

 

The other vampire shrugged. “Thought I’d say my farewells, do it all up properly,” he said off-handedly, stifling whatever emotion he might have felt beneath his familiar brash mask. It made him grateful that his duster had returned with him. It was as much armor as his biting tongue.

 

“Good,” the older vampire replied and then abruptly turned his back. Spike was stung. He had saved one of Angel’s friends, at great risk to himself; he’d even helped in this last debacle with the ex-Watcher’s father. And he’d done it all out of a misplaced loyalty and a stupid hope that Angel would recognize him.

 

Spike hated the bastard suddenly. Not that he’d ever _liked_ him before, but now it seemed that every bit of rage he’d ever carried for his elder flooded out. As a vampire he had killed his first Slayer to win Angelus’ approval. Even a handshake might have done for him, but he was tired of being used and then thrown out like an old tissue. It had always been that way, and he was sick of it.

 

“That’s about enough,” Spike blurted out. Angel turned around, and all eyes turned to focus on the two vampires with souls. They could sense the coming storm. “Ever since I got here you’ve been actin’ like a wanker. I get that you hate me, but you might show some bloody gratitude at least!”

 

“Gratitude?” Angel’s eyebrows rose. “Why would I want to do that, Spike? You’ve been nothing but a pain.”

 

“And that’s my fault?!” Spike cried, every word, every line of his body calling out passionately. Passion defined his very existance; it had always been so for him. “You’re the one that gave Buffy the bloody amulet. You were the one who was supposed to kick it in that cave! Besides which, I saved your soddin’ friends at least twice. Accidentally saved the wolf girl too. Could at least send me on my way with somethin’ more than your backside.”

 

Angel’s eyes narrowed. “We didn’t ask for or need your help, Spike. So if you’re going to leave, I suggest you just go.”

 

The room had narrowed until it was just the two of them, ancient antagonists, recent allies. Spike came forward until he stood toe to toe with his grandsire, and his words, when he spoke them, were low and hot. “You get it all, you know that?” he hissed. “You were my Yoda, my guide before you got that buggerin’ soul and left us. An’ then you have to lose the soul and steal my girl. An’ then, if that isn’t rich enough, I have to go and fall in love with a chit who’ll never love anyone but you. So you get it all, Angel. Happy? You’ve always been better than me; bigger, stronger, more evil, more good, doesn’t matter, you got more. An’ now you’ve got a nice office and nice friends an’ a nice place to stay. What do I have?”

 

There was a long silence before Spike answered his own question. “I save the world an’ I get the clothes on my back. So get out o’ my way, Angel.” The younger vampire shoved past him roughly, his jaw clenched and eyes burning. He wouldn’t meet their eyes on his way out the door; he didn’t want to see the looks on their faces, the pity he knew would be there. He got to the elevators before he stopped, confused. He hadn’t really had time to figure out where the sewer entrances were; hadn’t needed to know as a ghost. Spike didn’t know L.A. that well anyway, and he needed to find some place to hole up for the rest of the day, maybe a few days, before trying to figure out what he was going to do with the rest of his unlife.

 

“Spike.”

 

The blond vampire didn’t bother turning around. “Just catching my bearings,” he muttered. “Gimme a minute.”

 

There was no response. Instead, a finger jabbed at the buttons on the elevator, and Angel steered his childe inside, his hand curiously gentle. It was the first time they had made contact since Spike had regained a corporeal body, and it was a decidedly odd experience for both of them. They rode the elevator in silence, and Spike was a bit shocked when the doors opened and he recognized the floor holding Angel’s apartment.

 

Still in silence they walked inside, and Angel wordlessly poured both of them a drink. “Are you going to contact Buffy?” he finally asked.

 

Spike shook his head. “No.”

 

Angel’s eyes widened slightly. It wasn’t the answer he was expecting. “Why?”

 

He looked down into his drink. “Promise you won’t stake me?”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because at the end she said she loved me.” Spike looked Angel in the eye. “She didn’t mean it, of course, but that’s what she said. If I went back to her now, she’d have to take it back, or explain it somehow, an’ that would hurt too much.”

 

There was understanding in the bigger man’s eyes as he nodded. It always hurt when he saw the Slayer. “What are you going to do?”

 

“Dunno. Figure it out later, I guess, I always do.” Spike slammed back his drink and set the glass down. “Thanks. For that.” He started for the door, but it opened before he got there.

 

“Spike.” Wesley stood in the doorway, surprised.

 

Angel spoke from behind before Spike could leave. “Wes, why don’t you come in and have a drink with us?”

 

Spike stepped aside to allow the former Watcher entrance, though he paused briefly before shutting the door and coming back inside. He wasn’t sure what had made Angel ask him to stay, though not in so many words. He wasn’t even sure why he wasn’t leaving. But he told himself that it was still a few hours until dark, and he would give himself that much time anyway.

 

Angel poured three more rounds, and they all sat down in his spacious living area in silence, none of the men quite sure what to say. Wesley had come for a bit of comfort after the trauma of his father’s visit, but he had no clue what he could voice around Spike.

 

“No offense,” Spike finally said into the silence, “but your father is probably one of the biggest pricks I’ve ever had the displeasure of meetin’. And that’s sayin’ something.”

 

Angel frowned, moments away from telling Spike to shut up when a slight smile tilted the corners of Wes’s lips. “None taken. He really hasn’t changed much.”

 

“Reminds me of my father,” Angel admitted, the two drinks he’d consumed taking the edge off his words. He held out his glass as Spike poured another for himself. “Though yours might be more of a bastard.”

 

“I thought wanker might be a better word,” Spike said. “Knowing the type, he’s pro’lly got his bloody geneology mapped out to the beginning of time.”

 

Wes felt some of the tension slide out of his shoulders in the midst of the suddenly easy camaraderie. “Wanker would certainly be appropriate,” he replied. “And you’re quite right about the ancestry. It was one of the things we fought about.”

 

“Good thing you told him to bugger off then,” Spike said cheerfully. There was another long silence as they drank.

 

“What about your father?” Wesley asked suddenly. He had been intensely curious about the vampire, partially because he’d done what none other would have dared to do. Partially because they knew so very little about him and his past.

 

Spike shrugged, the good bourbon making him feel a little more mellow than he had in a very long time. “Didn’t really know him, yeah? He died when I was just a little bugger. Remember him bein’ distant, I guess, but nice enough.”

 

“I didn’t know that,” Angel said.

 

“Didn’t tell you everythin’, Angelus,” Spike said mildly.

 

Wes shared a look with the older vampire. “What are your plans, Spike?” Wesley asked, his voice almost kind.

 

Spike threw him a look. “Like I told Peaches, dunno.”

 

“May I ask what it is you want?” the ex-Watcher asked then.

 

There was a brief silence as the vampire considered the question. “Wanted a bit of peace, is all,” he said softly. “I thought dyin’ would be like that. Don’t know what I want now really.”

 

“I can’t promise you peace, Spike,” Angel rumbled. “But you could stay here if you wanted. Though you’ll have to find your own place,” he warned.

 

For a moment, the mask slipped, and Angel saw a very different Spike than the one he was used to, though Buffy would have recognized him easily. “You mean it?”

 

“You could be a great deal of use here,” Wesley answered for him. “You’ve proven that already.” And then he cast a measuring look towards Angel. “I think we could possibly manage to keep Angel from killing you. We’ve kept him from killing everyone else so far.”

 

And then Spike shrugged, and he was back to his old self, blue eyes laughing just a little bit as he thought of all the ways in which he could prove to be both an asset and a pain in the ass. Really, it was all one to him. “Peace and quiet would have got boring anyway,” he said, smirking suddenly. “And you lot can obviously use my help.”

 

Angel raised an eyebrow, but didn’t take exception. This time, anyway. It was a beginning of sorts, and like it or not, he was responsible for Spike in any number of painful ways. At least this way he could keep an eye on him, make sure he wasn’t causing any trouble. This way he might manage to put his troubled family back together one piece at a time. And one of these days they might all manage to find a bit of peace.


End file.
